In those very rare moments of self-honesty, Minako admitted that as roommates went, Makoto was the best she could ever hope for. Their fathers had been best friends and when the Kinos had been killed in a plane crash, Makoto came to live with them.
Minako's parents, remembering their own siblings, had divided the bedroom in half, laid down some rules, and ruthlessly enforced them. And for ten years and counting, it had mostly worked. Each girl had a desk with chair, wardrobe, bookshelf, and bed. Side by side, the bookshelves subtly marked the line between the two sides. When they had been seven, Minako had attempted to bar Makoto access to the door as it was on her side of the room. Makoto had spent a week climbing in and out of the window until Minako's parents had established the doorway as nuetral territory and not under either girl's control. Minako had then sulked for three days.
An observer standing in the doorway would note that over time, the room had come to reflect the contrast between the two teens. Minako's side was decorated with posters, photos and her wardrobe was well stocked with the latest fashion.
By contrast, Makoto's side was, for lack of a better term, spartan. Money and posessions simply for the sake of either, were not part of Makoto's nature. Her clothes were chosen for function, rather then any particular style. She'd put up no posters and her bookshelf was all but empty. On the other hand, she only spent a fraction of her allowance every week.
It drove Minako mad. She simply could not comprehend Makoto's complete and utter disinterest in the very things that even Usagi was passionate about. God knew why, but Makoto seemed to be content drifting along in Usagi's shadow. The irony that Minako did the same thing, only to Rei, was lost on her.
"Hey, Makoto?"
"Yo."
"What do you think of . . . no, never mind."
"'Kay."
"You know, I just don't get you."
"Sorry."
Minako fell back on her bed, clapped a pillow over her mouth and screamed in fustration.
Ami lay on her bed in the darkness of her room. She should be asleep. Her optimum bedtime, calculated by her fitness level, age, average physical activity per day, travel time and schoolwork, had passed more then an hour ago. But she couldn't sleep, for something new had happened today. Something wonderful.
She reached for her cell phone and flipped it open, then to the contacts menu.
Minako Aino Mother Mother's Office Rei Hino Makoto Kino Usagi Tsukino
New names on her phone list. Four of them. Perhaps they would even be her friends.
Dr. Hinako Mizuno MD, PhD, did not approve of friends. Social relationships were nothing more than a distraction and a waste of time, she said, but Ami had often longed for a friend. Just one. She'd never owned a stuffed animal. and talk of imaginary friends had been quickly sqaushed. Dr. Mizuno saw no reason to indulge flights of fancy. Imagination was there to be used to invent that which furthered the exploration and understanding of the universe.
Having those four names meant Ami was disobeying her mother.
She closed her phone.
Oddly, she didn't feel as bad about that as she should.
Usagi and Rei sat across from each other at the resturant and glared. Not anyone but a keen observer, who knew both girls well, could tell.
They put a pleasant mask on it of course, a show for their parents. Polite conversation wrapped around needle sharp barbs disguised as metaphors and euphinisims. At present, they were engaged in a razor sharp dance of trying to eat more neatly then the other.
Next to Usagi, Shingo, her younger brother, ate silently and tried to be invisible. He was convinced that someday, perhaps even tonight, Usagi and Rei were going to suddenly manifest magical powers or something like in an anime and slaughter each other in a spectacular display of violence.
While part of him was chomping at the bit for this, another part, the survival instinct of any little brother with a quick tempered sister, wanted to hide under the bed until it was over.
It was then that he noted that both girls were wearing identical wristwatches. Maybe they were henshin devices! His friends would be so jealous!
Then he rolled his eyes. The watches were just them trying to show each other up again. What sort of lunatic would put Rei and Usagi on the same Sentai team?
The hour was late, but Artemis hunched over the Spirit Scanner, checking over each and every sqaure inch of the planet, searching intently for one particuar soul.
"You will be of no use to anyone if you do not sleep, Artemis."
The Mage looked up, almost guiltily. "I will sleep soon. I just . . . I was hoping to find her."
Serenity might have been a hologram, but she could still give The Look and Artemis flinched. "What happended to Luna was not your fault, Artemis. She would have jumped into battle, trained or not." Her look softened. "She is much like her father when he was younger."
Artemis sighed. "Would that you were wrong, but the fact remains that we should have left with the transports and not stayed behind. Luna's education was my responsibility and I failed her."
Serenity would have laid a comforting hand on his shoulder if she could, but instead she gave him a soft smile. "The bond between a Master and his Apprentice is strong, but even more so when it is also Father and Daughter."
"I should have told her who I am."
"Would it have changed anything? The Mau do not acknowledge fathers. You know that."
"I . . . I would like to think so. Part of her is Imperial. I had always hoped that . . . it is a foolish hope, I know."
"Are you proud of her?"
"Of course! She was a brilliant mage! She was almost ready for her Trials."
"And at a young age too, due to your instruction. Take comfort in that." Another smile. "Seek your bed, Artemis. I will mind the scanner."
"Serenity, you do not need to-"
"I need less sleep then you, and . . ." She trailed off, concern on her face.
"Serenity?"
"I want to research a way to break through the Chronos Shield, if I can. We may need the Keepers' help before this is through."
Artemis blinked and then chose his next words very carefully. "Your Majesty, I am oath-bound to remind you that your father forbade contact with both the Keepers and the outer planets. A decision that was upheld by the Senate."
"And look where it got us," Serenity snapped, bitterness in her voice and then she looked down. "No, you are correct, Artemis, he did, and for good reason. But you and I both know part of that reason was his fury at Setsuna."
"The Lady had always known her own mind. I must also remind you that trafficking with the Keepers of Time is not without risk."
"As I well know," Serenity replied, "But you and I, the Senshi and this place are all that's left of the Imperium. Our options are few and I must take larger risks if we are see Beryl defeated. Your duty may be to offer counsel, and I welcome and acknowledge your words and the warning. But this is a Crisis of the Throne and the responsibility . . . and decision . . . is mine."
Artemis bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty." He straightened. "The Lower Tachyon Bands are usually the best place to find cracks in a Chronos Shield."
Serenity smiled. "Thank you, Artemis. Pleasant dreams."
"Good Night, Serenity."
